


Geralt and Dettlaff uwu

by Jondiplier



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Consensual Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory, Sex Toys, Sex on Furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26312836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jondiplier/pseuds/Jondiplier
Summary: Just some sexy between Geralt and Dettlaff. I am in love with the vamp bois so expect more of them.
Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 12
Kudos: 77





	Geralt and Dettlaff uwu

When Geralt bought his gaming chair he wasn't expecting much; even with all of the five star reviews, he really didn't think the chair could be that good. 

Before he bought his gaming chair, he was using an old computer chair he had for years, the faux leather well worn off, lumps all throughout the seat, and the backrest could barely hold his weight without tipping. 

Finally, when he bought his gaming chair, he didn't expect it to have so much support. Hours of playing went from feeling like he slept on a rocky, uneven ground to having the most luscious bed to grace the lands. 

Not that he'll sleep in it.

Spending days tracking monsters for never ending contracts; days on the road just to get there and back, to finally come home and relax. Video games help him unwind, knowing that there are no real consequences outside his virtual world. 

When he bought his gaming chair, he eagerly sat down and gave the manufacturers a five star rating. 

Witchering in a modern world is much different than what witchers are used to. Not that they didn't adapt, but from the journals he reads and old bestiaries he's found, the monsters today are nothing like they were centuries ago. 

The insectoids are smaller in population and size, having been forced into very rural areas. The most common place he hears of them causing trouble is in the Skellige Isles, but now-a-days people don't truly need witchers. 

Guns with silver bullets work out well for people who can't afford the services of a witcher, and don't need years of training and skill to master.

Even then, there are still jobs for the very few witchers remaining, and that's pest control. Draconids are nearly extinct, same with all hybrids. The only issues are curses, and with all the years witchers had to hone in on their dwindling job market, curses are what keep them afloat. 

With that in mind, Geralt tends to spend his days relaxing, not too worried about anything in particular. He has a roof over his head, steady supply of food and income, and two amazing, vampiric boyfriends to dot on him. 

Life is good. 

Geralt's too absorbed in his game to hear the front door open and close, or the jingle of keys as they're put into the little bowl Regis set out so no one would lose them. 

Headphones on, fingers dancing across the keyboard, Geralt focuses on the intense scene in front of him. Dark Souls takes all his attention, trying not to die at stupid times. It's his third play through, and he wants to improve his timing and completion of the game. 

Big hands settle on his tense shoulders, making him jump a foot in the air. He inhales sharply as a rumbling laugh comes from behind him. 

He pauses the game, taking off his headset to spin the chair around to see his lover. 

Dettlaff is looking down at him with fond, crystal blue eyes. His hands reach out, one resting on Geralt's beard covered cheek and the other on his shoulder. 

The witcher crosses his arms over his chest, raising a brow at him as he leans into the touch. "You're home early." 

"I am not." Dettlaff scoffs lightly, pulling away a bit to run a hand through Geralt's unkempt hair. 

"Yeah, you are. It's only-" he checks his watch. "Shit. It was just noon a minute ago." 

Another soft, deep rumble of a laugh comes from his partner, and Geralt looks up at him. "How was work, then?" 

"Fine." Dettlaff answers simply, fingernails gently scratching Geralt's scalp. "Finished one commission." 

Geralt hums, letting his sore eyes close and shoulders slump as his vampire plays with his hair. 

"You haven't even brushed your hair." He tisks, hands now roaming, inspecting him no doubt. 

"Mhm. Didn't need to." Geralt mutters, eyes meeting Dettlaff's. He smirks at the expression Dettlaff makes. He looks at his messy hair and slightly greasy beard with distaste, eyes taking in every minor flaw.

"C'mon, you can't blame me." Geralt grins. "First real day off since coming back from that trip to Velen." 

Dettlaff gives a small hum, lips form into a flat line. "First time since that trip I've seen you so calm." He says quietly, eyes still shining with a fondness he reserves for him and Regis. 

Big hands settle on his face again, making him look up at his love. "Makes me want to ruin you and put you back together." His wide nostrils flare as he speaks, his words settling low in his stomach. 

"What's holding you back?" Geralt asks, quirking a brow in challenge. 

"Whether or not I want to take you here and now, or wait for Regis." Dettlaff answers honestly, eyes darkening as he scents Geralt's spike in arousal. 

"Here and now, big boy. Wanna test how sturdy my chair is." Geralt grins, a wicked expression that makes Dettlaff's insides roll with heat.

The vampire rumbles, close to a growl as he easily lifts Geralt like he's nothing, spins them around and perches him on his lap. Dettlaff leans back in the seat, hands firmly planting on Geralt's thin hips, and pulls him to his chest. 

Geralt squirms and huffs as he's manhandled, never having time to prepare himself to be lifted up like he's nothing but a doll. His hands land on Dettlaff's shoulders, leaning in for a longing kiss. One of the many things he loves about his vampires; they make him feel fragile, like he's not a two hundred pound, fully grown man. 

His hands eagerly work the buckles on his vampire's jacket, hips rolling in a tease for what's to come. 

Large hands slide down over his firm ass, taking his cheeks and squeezing playfully as Dettlaff's senses are filling with Geralt's scent and sounds. 

They slip under the waistband of his shorts, taken aback to find not only slick cheeks, but a butt plug nestling snuggly inside his mate.

Dettlaff's chest heaves, inhaling sharply as his fingers play with the rim of the toy, groaning low and deep. 

Geralt pulls back from their searing kiss, eyes half open and face smug. "Couldn't help myself." He sighs, rocking back on his partner's hand. "Been so long, got myself all ready for you two." He shivers, voice breathy and soft. He even shaved for them, hoping to have a nice long, orgasmic day when the two got home.

Dettlaff's eyes are piercing and filling out with lust. He's panting already, beyond excited by what Geralt's done. "You…" he shivers, picturing Geralt opening himself up, touching himself to the thought of them. 

When Dettlaff opens his eyes again, they're dark, blue almost gone. 

Geralt's hoist up and onto his feet, barely having time to register the change. "Strip." Is the simple command he's given. 

He shoots Dettlaff a sultry smile and turns around. His thick arms take off his own shirt first, tossing it onto the floor to pick up later.

Next, he makes a show of running his hands over himself, thumbs hooking into his waistband of his shorts and easing the fabric over his ass agonizingly slow. He scents Dettlaff's spike in arousal, moaning softly as he hears his vampire stroking himself. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking the man off, thick, molten hot cock sliding down his throat. 

He bends as he shorts slip lower, showing off the deep red base of the toy. One foot after the other, and finally he's naked. 

He turns back around, walking past Dettlaff to his desk and opens a drawer, pulling out one of their many bottles of lube, and tosses it to his partner. 

Coming back over, Geralt helps him shoulder off his coat, then tugs his pants off as the other lifts his hips. Any other day, Geralt would have teased him for Dettlaff's love of skinny jeans, but right now he's too focused on getting his insides rearranged. 

He crawls onto Dettlaff's lap, groaning as he takes the vampire's slick cock into his hand. He pumps it, molten heat pooling in his groin as a large hand tugs on the base of his plug. 

Geralt gasps as the toy is slipping out, before it's brutally being pushed back in. A hand goes to his partner's shoulder to steady himself. His blown wide eyes meet steady, determined ones, sending his hips up against his toned stomach. 

"Dettlaff-" he grunts, mouth falling open as his rim is teased one last time before the toy fully slips out and falls pbetween his legs. 

Hands guide him up and above Dettlaff's throbbing prick, the head kissing his pucker before his own hand goes down to hold his lover's cock, keeping it still as he slowly sinks down. 

"Fuck-!" He whimpers, a little surprised it came out like that. Dettlaff's hold on him tightens and he latches onto his neck, pressing wet hot kisses to his skin. 

Slowly, at his own pace, he sinks down. The firm grip on his hips squeeze as his ass meets Dettlaff's thick, strong thighs. 

Geralt pants against the side of his love's head, hands moving to wrap around him. One cradles the vampire's neck while the other rests on his bicep. 

He places a gentle kiss above Dettlaff's ear as the man covers his neck and shoulder with bruises. He lifts himself up with his own quaking thighs, and rocks back down. 

They both moan, breathing fast and hot as he sets his rhythm. 

Soon, the sounds of heavy breathing and the wet slap of skin on skin fills the living room. Geralt's hands hold onto Dettlaff to ground himself as the other's hands grope his ass, pulling him back against him with every downward thrust. 

Within seconds Geralt's world is flipping, a startling shout leaves him as his back and ass meet the leather of his chair. 

Dettlaff pulls the chair to him by the armrests, face going feral as he pushes himself back into Geralt's loose hole, not caring of how awkward his stance is. 

With big hands on his hips and his legs over Dettlaff's broad shoulders, Geralt can't do anything besides grip the edge of his chair for dear life and wail as he's fucked. 

His ass isn't even touching the seat anymore, and Dettlaff's face has morphed into something of pure concentration. His growls and huffs and grunts echo through Geralt's head, eyes glazing over as his prostate is hit for the first time. 

He cries out at the feeling, and Dettlaff slows to a deep grind as his insides spasm around his love. His cock is pulsing with need, balls drawn and aching with how full they are. 

When the pace doesn't pick back up, and when Dettlaff has him pretty much folded in half, Geralt focuses on his surroundings again. He makes a questioning sound, soft and whiny, and then he hears a tisk.

"Could've waited until I got home at least." Regis scolds with no heat behind it. Instead, he's looking rather interested and hot and bothered. 

"Well, this is a very nice thing to come home to, so no offence taken." Regis concludes, and he more so feels Dettlaff's chuckle than hears it. 

Geralt feels his face heat up as he takes himself in, legs high up in the air, the bulking body of Dettlaff above him. It's quite the sight, and his cock throbs as the scent of Regis' spicy arousal fills his lungs. 

"Regis…" Geralt sighs, his hands letting go of the chair now that he's not being railed. He runs them over Dettlaff's sides as he lets out a possessive growl. 

"Oh shush Dettlaff." Regis murmurs, his own voice low and raspy. "I think it would be fair to share, dear." The older vampire drags his nails down the broad, muscled back of his blood brother and leans over him, placing a kiss on the middle of his upper back. 

Dettlaff relaxes and wraps his arms around Geralt and sighs. His rumbly purr-like sound to show he's content. 

"Uh, your dick is still in me." Geralt tuts, clenching down on him purposefully. "I'd like to get off, big boy." 

Dettlaff's purr turns into a feral growl, pulling back enough to look Geralt's face over. The vampire searches him, and when the witcher flashes a hungry, wicked grin the bigger man starts at it again. 

It's a little sloppy with a half hard cock in him, but they make it work. Geralt's blunt nails dig into Dettlaff's sides, groaning as he feels his thrusts deepen now that his dick is fully hard. 

"Fuck, Dettlaff." He moans, wanton as his vampire lifts him up, his own arms shooting out to wrap around his neck in a small panic. He's crumpled up against his vampire's bulky body, mouth open and spewing whimpering moans. 

He's fucked within an inch of his life as he's held up, in the air, in Dettlaff's arms. His hands are in a bruising grip, one moving up to tangle in the dark, slicked back locks of his hair. 

"Dett-laff…" he moans between thrusts, one hand snaking down to fist his own cock. He pumps his hand, feeling the molten heat in his gut and his balls drawing up tight before he's coming, eyes closing as his head rolls back. His hips jerk wildly with the little purchase he has, and contracts around the hard cock in his ass. 

His love starts to come shortly after, panting hot breaths and chest heaving as his stomach flutters, hips pressing as close as he can to his witcher. 

They come down together, looking at each other before Dettlaff starts to walk. Geralt finds himself on their lucious bed, sighing loudly and stretching as a damp cloth from their connected bathroom is tossed to him. It lands with a wet thwap on his stomach and he waves a thumbs up to Dettlaff, cleaning himself off. 

Two warm, cuddly vampires engulf both sides of him and he kisses Regis, then Dettlaff, dozing off for a nap.


End file.
